“You were awake?” Marac nearly spit out his last bite of meat. “Made us haul you for miles, and you were awake the whole time?”
“No, no.” Laedron waved his hands. “I mean, before the spell, before I passed out.”
Brice shook his head, searching the night for whatever had made the sound. “Sounds like bats.”
“Could be, but no need to worry. Neither will harm us.” No sooner had he finished speaking than Laedron heard the distinct sound of wolves howling in the distance. “No need to worry about that, either.”
“That’s wolves, isn’t it?” Standing, Brice scanned the trees. “They sound hungry.”
“I’ll protect you, Thimble.” Marac puffed out his chest and chuckled. “I won’t let them get you.”
“I’m serious!” Brice said. “They’ll sneak in under the cover of night and attack. Maul us to pieces, they will.”
Glancing at Valyrie, Laedron detected fear in her eyes, too. “Get a hold of yourself, Brice. We’ve dealt with far worse than a few wolves. Do you think I’d let them get us?”
“What if there are twenty? Thirty? You’re in no condition to cast spells, and the rest of us can’t fight so many.”
Marac shook his head. “A thousand? Ten thousand? Wolves don’t hunt in packs that big. At most, we might see five or six, and that’s assuming it’s a big pack and they come this way.”
“You can fight six wolves at once, Lae? As weak as you are?” Brice asked.
“Surely. I’m Laedron Telpist.” He elbowed Marac. “Master of the elements… and wolves to boot.”
A smile crossing his lips, Brice seemed to calm. “All right. I’m going to get some sleep.”
“You’d better, too,” Marac told Laedron. “I’ll come to wake you in a few hours.”
* * *
The crackling of the fire stirred Laedron from his sleep, and he rolled onto his side to watch the flames dance above the coal bed. Opposite him, Valyrie seemed undisturbed. Brice displayed an innocent smile as he slept. He’s probably dreaming of cakes and cider,of perfect looming and amazing stitches. How could Marac hold such contempt for him? I’ve never met a kinder person, Laedron thought. Speaking of Marac, where is he? No matter how hard he strained to peer into the darkness, he couldn’t see his friend.
Sitting up, Laedron straightened his clothes and picked up his scepter. He looked again, but Marac was nowhere to be found.
“Marac,” he whispered. “Marac!” He stood, stuck the scepter into his belt, and called out again, but the only response was Valyrie’s shifting. Not wanting to wake her or Brice, he made his way to the edge of the firelight and peered through the trees. The sudden howling of wolves, seemingly closer than they had been, startled him, but he remained silent. Where has he gone? Damn! He should know better than to go wandering the wilderness without telling anyone. Laedron rolled his eyes at the irony of his thoughts, for he was intent on searching for Marac without alarming the others. Just a quick look around won’t hurt. If I can find him, there’ll be no cause for worry.
Careful to be as quiet as he could, he walked into the brush surrounding the camp, squinting at the strange shapes made by the shadows. He repeated the pattern of going a few steps, then searching for any sign of Marac several times before he came to a pile of rotten logs-more like a decaying wall of timber-at the base of what seemed to be a massive pine. That tree must be a hundred feet through the center. And there’s another one! Growing at varying distances from one another amidst the ruins, the trees must have been ancient, and he imagined that the forest had existed for a long time before the city had been built. He had no way of telling, though, and he could only assume facts about the place based upon his own paltry knowledge of history. Shaking his head, he decided that his amazement with the flora would have to wait. Marac was still out there somewhere, and Laedron was determined to find his friend.
He found footing in the pile of old trunks and climbed to get a better vantage point so he could survey the area. Nearing the top, he hugged the tree and sat perfectly still. The howling of wolves was closer than he’d heard thus far. He peeked through the limbs and saw four gray wolves pouncing upon each other while a larger one sat atop a boulder and howled at the full moon. They’re at play and must not have noticed my approach.
Though the howling and the proximity of the wolves made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, he mustered the courage to ignore his fear and take in the important details of what he was observing. Five in all. No blood on their mouths, no shredded clothes or bodies nearby. Unlikely that they’ve killed Marac. No evidence.
He felt a vibration in the log he perched on, and he froze, his mind first, then every muscle in his body. The wolves stopped their frolicking and paced back and forth in the clearing, as if preparing for a fight. It wasn’t just me. What’s causing that? With a thumping rhythm, the vibration resounded throughout the wood. Then, the noise intensified to pounding, growing louder as it pattered out a beat.
It sounds like… but it can’t be footsteps. Too heavy. Too large. His eyes widened when the brush just past the wolves parted, and he was unable to move or make a sound. First, he saw the head of the creature, which appeared similar to a huge, brilliant-cut emerald. The body emerged next as it sprung twenty feet through the air, landing in the middle of the wolves. Snarling, the biggest wolf charged the crystalline beast. What had been a green light swirling inside the creature’s emerald structure flashed to a red glow. A living thing comprised entirely of jewels? Is that what got Marac? Am I dreaming? What in the hells is that thing?
He watched in horror as the crystal monster grabbed the first wolf and tossed it like a used plaything. The snapping of the animal’s spine when it struck the tree was audible to Laedron even from his vantage point a hundred yards away. The beast raised its emerald arms, the glow inside it intensifying. A stream of red and violet light shot from the wolf’s body, and the monster seemed to be taking the energy into its own body. Is that…? It can’t be. Impossible. It looked just like the spell Andolis cast on me, the one by which he promised to take my soul. The remaining wolves bit at the creature’s crystalline legs, but Laedron figured they would be more likely to break their teeth than anything else.
Glowing ever brighter, the creature turned toward the other wolves, silent except for the crinkling of leaves and twigs beneath its bulky limbs. The quiet sent Laedron’s pulse racing faster, for the creature’s silence spoke volumes of its nature, its propensity to kill without apparent malice, its ability to rip flesh in its grisly fingers without screaming out in anger or victory. A cold, calculating mechanism of death. If Marac encountered this thing, he’s surely dead.
The wolves must have felt intimidated because they inched backward, and when the creature lunged, they fled. Like a dart, the crystal abomination pursued, its bloodlust or appetite apparently not sated. It carved a path of destruction through the forest, breaking through the smaller trees and fallen logs as though they were little more than twigs and leaves in its path.
Creator! Who would make such a thing and loose it upon the forest? Laedron thought, unwilling to accept the possibility that the crystalline beast was a natural occurrence. It must be the work of mages. Nowhere else in the natural world do gems take on a life of their own. And where evidence of sorcery is found, a sorcerer must be near. The Uxidin? Why would they make something like that? Zyvdredi? I dare not think it. Dammit, where did Marac go?